


capsule

by quassia



Category: Dangan Ronpa, Super Dangan Ronpa 2
Genre: Alternate Universe, Alternate Universe - Post-Canon, Angst, Established Relationship, Fade to Black, Fluff, Implied/Referenced Character Death, Island Mode, M/M, Spoilers
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2016-08-17
Updated: 2017-12-04
Packaged: 2018-08-09 09:32:37
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 14
Words: 16,501
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7796608
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/quassia/pseuds/quassia
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>A collection of various short fics and drabbles, inspired by one-word prompts. The fourteenth:</p><p>Assorted pairings and drabbles written to random word prompts. Gundam deals poorly with chores but Hinata's good at offering incentives, Souda and Kuzuryuu maturely discuss consent (and don't just loudly argue what are you talking about, don't you know these characters), Chihiro and Mondo are cute; and Komaeda pretends he doesn't worry about Hinata getting hurt.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. locked: souda/kuzuryuu

**Author's Note:**

> So begins me trying to write a lil something every day... Thus far, I just have Souda/Kuzuryuu (my rarepair!! my love!!!!) drabbles but I might have other pairings in the future. I'll add in the pairing tags as necessary.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This one's set in Island Mode... I just hop between all SDR2 universes.

“This _always happens_ when that idiot gets involved,” Souda growled, his arms folded over his chest.

He and Kuzuryuu were currently in one of the storage rooms on Jabberwock Island. Komaeda had come hurrying up to them earlier, asking for some help and (while exchanging a glance) they decided that they might as well. It wasn’t like they had any particular plans that day anyway.

(Well, Kuzuryuu had been planning a _date_ , finally, since he’d managed to finagle and plan a day just for the two of them, but Souda was a fucking idiot. So that was out the window.)

After they had gotten out what Komaeda needed from a pile he couldn’t have moved all by himself, he had smiled and said, “I’m going to hurry and take this to Hinata-kun, all right?” and bustled off. The door had shut behind him. Neither of them had suspected that, when it had closed, it wouldn’t open. Neither had suspected that a jiggling of a knob would produce absolutely no results, no matter how hard Souda did it or even if he slammed his shoulder into the door several times to see if it would give.

This wouldn’t be a problem if Souda had a tool set or literally _anything_ with him, but he didn’t. And this room was full of easily breakable supplies or perishables and they could make things that much worse if they tried breaking the doorknob. Neither wanted to deal with Owari or Nidai having to bodily bust down the door because they could cause so much collateral damage.

Thus, here they were now. Souda paced around the room, glaring at blameless inanimate objects while Kuzuryuu sat calmly on a large cardboard box, his arms over his chest, eyes following Souda.

“They’ll notice when we don’t show up for supper, if not before then,” Kuzuryuu offered, shrugging. “You might as well sit down. It’s not like we’re in danger in here.”

“‘C—course we’re not in danger, but that doesn’t mean I wanna be locked in!”

“At least you’re locked in here with me.”

Silence.

Souda glanced to Kuzuryuu. The yakuza had changed positions, shifted, his chin on his palm and his face turned to one side, facing toward a wall and no longer watching him. If Souda wasn’t mistaken (and he could be, he was young and full of hormones) that sounded awfully like…

“You, uh.” Kuzuryuu gave him an annoyed look, like he’d wished he hadn’t said what he had just said and now he was suffering for it. It was a look that said to _drop it_ but Souda was about to do exactly the opposite of that, because it was Souda. “Y-you into the whole bein’ locked in tight spaces with someone you like?”

Kuzuryuu threw a dustcloth at him.

Which was justly deserved.

Souda wasn’t very good at reading a mood, if he had ever been (he hadn’t).

Coughing and waving dust away from his face, he scrunched up his nose at a red and aggravated Kuzuryuu. Okay, so he’d spoiled the mood before it even began. He could still work with this. Rather, he had the guts to attempt to work with it. Daring to come closer, he watched Kuzuryuu glare from the corners of his eyes. Souda came closer, not sure if he should be expecting a punch or not.

“I never said I ain’t into it,” Souda said with more boldness than he felt. Kuzuryuu’s eyebrow ticked up and then he shifted, settling both of his palms to the box to either side of his legs, looking up at Souda as Souda stopped in front of him. He took a deep, bracing breath.

Then he leaned down, feeling bolder and more confident still when Kuzuryuu didn’t try to headbutt him, bringing his mouth against Kuzuryuu’s chin, angling his head for a good angle to press a firm kiss against the beauty mark below his lower lip. He felt a gust of breath waft just above his upper lip, Kuzuryuu’s version of a laugh when they were doing something like this and started to grin himself, licking at the corner of Kuzuryuu’s mouth.

“Idiot,” Kuzuryuu said, swinging his arm around his neck—was that a fond way of saying that, or was it just him? He was sure it was the fond way of saying it. Kuzuryuu had a way of calling Souda ‘idiot’ for every single occasion, and Souda wasn’t sure he had even heard them all yet.

Kuzuryuu pulled him and he went eagerly into a lazy kiss. Not that it stayed lazy for long. Souda just wasn’t the type, not when Kuzuryuu kissed him with slightly parted lips, pure invitation.

It had gotten to the point where Kuzuryuu’s nails were raking white-hot lines up toward his scalp and Souda’s lips were starting to pleasantly ache that the door flew open behind them, filling the room with light. Souda leapt back with a startled yelp and Komaeda smiled, bemused, his gaze switching back and forth between Kuzuryuu and Souda, remarkably more ruffled than they had been when he left.

“Aha,” he laughed, “sorry. I just remembered I forgot this door’s lock didn’t work right! Lucky, right?”

Later, Souda would bitch to a completely disinterested Hinata about reading the mood or locking people into places or _why were you having Komaeda help you in the first place anyway?! This was all kind of your fault?!_

Hinata looked at his hands and thought of his life, thought of his choices.

He also _might have_ thought about locking Souda into some room or another. Just to shut him up for a while.


	2. oil: souda/kuzuryuu

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Fantasizing as he fiddled with bolts and pipes, he didn’t notice when Kuzuryuu changed positions. Not until something touched the back of his neck and Souda nearly screamed.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This one is set post canon ending! I just like pre-established relationships, so go with it...

Souda felt a brush at his shoulder, stopping his work. He’d been engrossed in making this new engine, one that he was eager to load up into the first car all of them would have on Jabberwock Island. He still wouldn’t trust half of them to drive it, but it was a lot of work hauling what they grew and other things they needed to survive around. He’d been, admittedly, engrossed, and only now did he remember Kuzuryuu was actually there with him.

Kuzuryuu, who had brought himself close next to Souda (when had he done _that_? and how, without his noticing??) and had put his cheek against Souda’s bare shoulder.

“Oi, don’t I stink?” Souda cocked his head at him.

Kuzuryuu shrugged, his nose rubbing the upper curve of Souda’s arm with the motion. “I don’t mind it.”

“Huh.” Souda blinked at him, not sure what to make of the comment. He was sure he smelled like the inside of an automobile shop. And, while he liked the smell of oil, he knew Owari had complained at him, saying he reeked of it after an intensive couple of days with him locked in his workshop utterly consumed with working on one of his projects.

Shrugging it off, Souda went to get back to work, even with the warm weight of Kuzuryuu’s cheek on his shoulder. He was almost finished his baby! So close! He couldn’t wait to show it off to the others, and especially to Kuzuryuu, wondering what he’d say when he saw how well it’d run…

Fantasizing as he fiddled with bolts and pipes, he didn’t notice when Kuzuryuu changed positions. Not until something touched the back of his neck and he nearly screamed.

“What the fuck,” Kuzuryuu spluttered, “it’s just _me_ , stupid! Don’t jump like that!”

“No, what,” Souda stuttered in turn, trying to look back at him. Kuzuryuu had settled behind him, in such a way it made it difficult to see him—him being shorter and all. “The hell are ya doin’ back there?!”

“Nothing,” Kuzuryuu grumbled, sullenly. He pushed closer, pressing defiantly against Souda’s back and burying his nose against the back of his neck. The muscles of Souda’s neck tensed and he fought the urge to retract his head toward his shoulders because it _tickled_ , and his hair was pulled up in a tail and everything today, leaving that swath of skin bare save for wisps of pink hair that had come free despite all of his efforts.

“You’re sure as hell doin’ _somethin’_.”

“Shut up. Keep working.”

Souda glared over his shoulder in futility but grudgingly turned back to face forward.

Kuzuryuu was nuzzling, rubbing his nose up and down over the nape of Souda’s neck. His fingers fumbled on his wrench. How the hell was anyone supposed to keep working like this?! That nose trailed up, the tip of it nudging behind his ear and he felt more than heard Kuzuryuu’s sighed breath, then a deep inhale like he was breathing in  _something_. It sent shivers crawling all up Souda’s neck and he wanted to hide between his shoulders again. Trying valiantly to focus, he realised that, _no_.

There was _no way in hell_ could he work like this. Was Kuzuryuu trying to turn him on?!

Something wet and warm swiped along the side of his neck and he thought _yeah_ , Kuzuryuu had to be. Otherwise he wouldn’t be licking and mouthing his neck.

“Uhmm.” The sound was more moan than protest and he felt Kuzuryuu sigh again, though this time it was the sort of puffs he made when he was amused. Souda’s ears burned.

“What? Done working?”

“‘Done working’?” Souda mimicked in a higher voice. “Like hell I am, but I can’t work like this!” He couldn’t complain. Really. He was getting attention, and Kuzuryuu’s hands calmly circled around to his front, to where his jumpsuit gaped open, his fingers dragging over the front of his tank top. “What’s got you all stirred up?”

Kuzuryuu was quiet. So, it was either something he didn’t want to say because it was obvious and Souda was an idiot… or it was something he didn’t want to say because he was obvious and, also, Souda was an idiot.

“You like how I smell, dontcha?” Leering, Souda looked back at him. Tried. He saw the pinkened tip of an ear right before Kuzuryuu sunk his teeth into the skin of his neck. Grin, gone. Souda was busy shivering and sucking in his stomach as Kuzuryuu dragged his ring-adorned knuckles along the front of it, over fabric that crumpled, caught around fingertips. Kuzuryu traced down his navel and teased at the hem of his shirt, edges of his blunt nails tickling the skin above his hips. “S… so that really is it… nh.”

“Mmf.”

Kuzuryuu wasn’t going to answer him anytime soon but, with that hand dragging up the front of his shirt, Souda thought he’d gotten his answer anyway.


	3. stars: souda/kuzuryuu

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> It was unlikely that their world would be thinking about going to the moon or otherwise anytime soon. There were too many things that had to be fixed, too many things that yet lingered. But that didn’t mean Souda's dream had died.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Post canon end! Is this one a little angsty...? Looks like it. Just a bit, though.

Souda had long had a dream. He thought about it every night as he glanced up at the night sky, though he highly doubted he would get to fulfill it now, with everything that had happened. Yeah. It was unlikely a Remnant of Despair would ever get to ride a rocket into space. It was unlikely that their world would be thinking about going to the moon or otherwise anytime soon. There were too many things that had to be fixed, too many things that yet lingered.

But that didn’t mean his dream had died.

Sprawled on the top of a grassy hill, the warm night air swept his skin. He’d changed into just a t-shirt, long shorts (you never needed too much, on Jabberwock Island), and lay comfortably as his gaze tracked the invisible lines of a constellation idly. He felt tired but comfortable, and he had no desire to head back to his cottage anytime soon. Relaxing times like these were so important, especially with how busy it tended to be through the day.

Arching his back, stretching, Souda curled his toes and groaned contentedly.

“So this’s where you were, Souda,” said a voice, and he would’ve jumped if he hadn’t been so relaxed. Tipping his head back, he peered up at Kuzuryuu, who looked back with a hand resting on one of his hips. Gone was the suit he wore most of all. In its place were clothes that were simple and casual—but could stand to be more bright, in Souda’s yellow shorts-wearing opinion.

“Yo.” Souda grinned. “You come for a romantic star-watchin’ date?!”

Kuzuryuu rolled his eye but he sat next to him. “Is that what you’re doing?”

“Aa—well, not the date.” _Obviously_ , Kuzuryuu muttered and Souda elbowed him. “But I’m watchin’ the stars!” Souda gazed up at him eagerly. “Now that you’re here, it’s a date!”

Kuzuryuu huffed and flushed, but there was subtle pleasure in the way his hand slid over, fingers tangling with Souda’s where his hand lay in the grass. Eventually, he even settled back, laying his head on Souda’s shoulder in such a way it made his heart hurt; feel like it was swelling in his chest, like affection was about two minutes from smothering him.

Stars spanned the sky, further than they could see.

Somewhere on the mainland, somewhere that wasn’t Jabberwock, perhaps others were looking up at the stars. Perhaps they didn’t have the time to waste to relax, the luxury to feel like they could let down their guard long enough to survey the sky. There were so many ‘what ifs’, so many uncertainties, and looking up the stars made them all feel distant, small, like those faintly twinkling lights.

In the universe, they were small and unimportant.

“You’re quiet,” Kuzuryuu noted after several minutes. Starting, Souda realised he’d completely spaced out, feeling as though he were falling upward, being engulfed and swallowed by the endless night sky.

“I’m soakin’ in the romance,” Souda declared at last.

“Don’t bullshit me. It doesn’t work.”

Souda went quiet and turned his head to the side. Kuzuryuu, half of his features lit by the moon and stars, gazed unblinkingly back at him, waiting. Expectant.

“I was just thinkin’,” he said, after several moments. “’Bout my dream. And stuff.”

“Aa. Your rocket?”

Souda’s chest swelled with affection. _Your rocket_ , Kuzuryuu said, in such a matter-of-fact way. Kuzuryuu said it like Souda would finish that rocket tomorrow, like its completion, the fulfillment of his dream, was a sure thing.

“Yeah! I…” He stalled, rethinking the words. “I mean, I know it might not happen anymore, but…”

Kuzuryuu snorted. “Why shouldn’t it? Oi, you better not be giving up on your dream just ‘cause of this.” He breathed out a loud sigh. “Yeah, it might be a helluva lot more difficult to try to make it happen now, but you’ve got help, now. And I don’t plan on letting you give up on what you’ve always wanted.”

Help. In the form of his friends.

In the form of Kuzuryuu, so much more than one.

Souda swallowed against the sudden lump in his throat.

“Don’t cry,” Kuzuryuu warned.

(But to no avail.)


	4. downstairs: hinata/gundam

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Gundam’s hand gripped heavy but warm at the back of his neck, thumb smoothing just at the edge of his hairline. It practically gave him shivers and Hinata wondered at the way his own hands tensed, fingers pressing into his palms.
> 
> “See? You are already weakened,” Gundam declared confidently. “I will see you back to your cottage. Go get your papers, but I will be awaiting your return.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This is set post canon end... a little. I ship Hinata with practically everyone.

Hinata wasn’t a deep sleeper. Not anymore. Well, had he ever been? All of his time had been spent in studying, in worrying himself to tears over what other people said, thought, believed of him, the crushing weight of whether he was fine as he was or whether he was better trying to be…someone else. Someone with talent.

So when he heard a noise, he startled awake.

It took several minutes before things filtered through. He wasn’t in his cottage. Rather, he was at a table in the hotel restaurant. A telling ache was in his neck, reminding him he had been working on various documents and reports before he had (at some point) fell asleep. Groaning and leaning back, he stretched stiffly before he recalled something had woke him.

He froze, cocking his head.

From downstairs, something soft. Movement.

No-one but he and his friends were on this island. His friends, recovering from despair still. Recovering from their _comas_ still. He carefully stood up and crept to the top of the stairs, peering down into the dark of the lobby. He couldn’t see anyone from here and felt a twinge of anxiety. But he made his way down, one soft step at a time until he could look cautiously into a room full of moonlight.

There was a figure crouched in one corner. Hinata balled his hand into a fist and then that figure moved—and one red eye glanced back at him.

Then that figure jolted to their feet, startled, at the same time Hinata sagged against the banister in relief.

“Tanaka,” he sighed, “you surprised me. What’re you doing here so late?”

He headed down the remainder of the stairs as Gundam stood, frowning over at him, eyes narrowed and one of his hands moving to drag his scarf up over his nose. Hinata missed the days where tiny hamster heads would peep out of that scarf or Tanaka would show off their tricks, puffing himself up afterward. “Nothing you need concern yourself with, Hinata Hajime,” Gundam said, voice low and rumbling and fairly ominous.

“It’s late,” Hinata reminded him mildly.

“Time is but a construct to the Ascendant of Ice.”

“What’re you doing over there?” Ignoring the words, Hinata headed closer, but Gundam moved into his path, cutting him off—so close that Hinata would have fell either into him or back on the floor, if not for a bandaged hand gripping at his arm to steady him. Just as soon, that hand broke away, leaving Hinata feeling a little cold and a little lonely, but he fought not to show it on his face, lifting his eyebrows instead.

“A beast lurks here,” Tanaka told him seriously. “It is not for you to deal with, not yet.”

“Ah… an animal got in?” Understanding, Hinata ducked to peer underneath one of Gundam’s arms. He felt himself being frowned at, but he looked nevertheless. In the dark, a pair of yellow slits winked at him. One of the cats that roamed around the island, been here from who-knows-when. “Do you need me to get anything?”

Gundam hesitated.

“I think there’s leftover chicken from supper upstairs,” Hinata continued. It had survived Owari’s vicious appetite by some miracle. 

“…Very well. But you are not to approach it; you must give the offering to me.”

Gundam waved his hand in imperious dismissal but Hinata would take his chance to do _something_. He hurried back upstairs, into the kitchen that Hanamura now happily lorded over with little incident, and returned with strips of chicken  wrapped in a paper towel. Gundam accepted it wordlessly, having lowered into a crouch, carefully inching his way toward the cat.

“That’s right,” he said to it, his low voice soothing now, “eat. You must be weakened from your flight.”

Hinata caught a glimpse of gray, tabby fur and the way the cat had rucked its back up, staring intently at Gundam. However… eventually, it slunk cautiously toward the food Gundam had left there, eating it in ravenous bites.

“There, there. It’s all right. Good boy.”

Hinata hovered behind, aching to do something but it wasn’t so bad to observe Gundam in his element, either. He waited patiently, more patiently than Hinata would ever have the will for, until at last the cat moved toward him, carefully sniffing, circling… and then it slunk past him, creeping its way toward the entrance, all the while shooting looks back at him like it wasn’t sure what to make of him.

Hinata watched Gundam rise and follow, careful and light-footed, stopping when the cat would look back and taking a broad route to the side. Eventually Gundam stopped, pressed his hand to the door to open it, and the cat darted out into the night, disappearing rapidly into the dark.

“Is that okay?” he asked, after a long silence, watching Gundam gaze outside.

But Gundam smirked, shutting his eyes. “Hmpth. Of course. One cannot forcefully approach a beast such as that… it takes time. But in time, it will come to me.”

_Half of the population of the cats on the island already comes to you._

“Mmm.” Hinata stretched, arching his arms over his head and turning back to the stairs that led up to the restaurant. “Well, now that that’s done, I guess I better go finish up those reports. Go get some sleep, Tanaka, and try not to get distracted by animals on your way back.”

When he moved—he couldn’t.

A hand had caught his wrist, not bandaged but the other, ring cool but his palm warm. “It is late,” Gundam said, critically, “even for one who I have given some of my power. Your tasks can wait until the morning.”

Even discounting the slight ache in his neck, Hinata thought he wasn’t wrong. He felt sluggish, tired, and wondered how much sleep he had _really_ gotten over the last several nights (weeks? months?). Frowning, he brought his hand up to rub his thumb between his temples, warding off a headache that wanted to come on.

As if spurred on by the motion, Gundam’s hand gripped heavy but warm at the back of his neck, thumb smoothing just at the edge of his hairline. It practically gave him shivers and Hinata wondered at the way his own hands tensed, fingers pressing into his palms.

“See? You are already weakened,” Gundam declared confidently. “I will see you back to your cottage. Go retrieve your logs, but I will be awaiting your return.”

With that, the hand slid away, leaving Hinata wondering a little at the readiness of Gundam’s physical contact—not that he made a point of avoiding touch with Hinata, but because it was still a rare day that he would actively touch him. Was it because it was the middle of the night? The influence of the moonlight? Because Gundam was half-asleep himself?

He was probably still in that animal-taming mood, Hinata decided and smiled half-heartedly, half at himself and the disappointment he felt for his own rational explanation.

“Yeah, okay. I’ll be right back, then, Tanaka.”

He wouldn’t be able to win against him in an argument anyway, not when Gundam would level him with that _stare_ he had gotten used to seeing. Especially when Gundam noticed him overworking himself (it was quite a bit). Hurrying upstairs, he gathered up the papers, thinking he _could_ finish them tonight, damn it all, maybe he could sneakily do it back in his cottage? Yeah. Though, that would feel like a betrayal. _Ugh_.

Rejoining Tanaka at the base of the stairs, he nudged into his side with a simple ‘let’s go’ and they stepped out into the cool night air.

It was fully night, no light edging the horizon, quiet aside from the distant sound of water lapping the beach. Thankfully the lights they’d rigged up (by they, it was Souda) provided enough shine to ensure they didn’t trip over anything. Gundam was quiet next to him as they went but Hinata, sleepy and getting sleepier as they went, didn’t try to strike up conversation.

In its own way, it was nice. Being with Gundam had always been comfortable, and that had changed very little since he awoke. Certainly, it had taken time before Gundam recalled things. But Hinata hadn’t been able to leave him alone, hadn’t _wanted_ to leave him alone. He still remembered when Gundam came to trust him in the simulation, had extended his hand to him. He wanted that again, greedy person that Hinata Hajime had discovered that he was.

And it  _had_ gotten to that point again eventually. Thankfully.

He glanced sidelong at him, then down to Gundam’s hand, hanging by his side. It was not far from his own.

…Could he?

He hesitated, warring with his own desires ( _if I wanna do this, what does this say about me?_ ) and what Gundam’s reaction might be. His hand flexed, fingers curling, uncurling… but he reached over. He found the palm warm and, immediately, Gundam’s fingers flinched in surprise—no, his whole _body_ flinched with surprise but Hinata did his best not to let it deter him. Instead, he gripped at Gundam’s hand, clasping it in his own defiantly.

If he shook it off, that was that, but.

…

_There’s no way in hell I’m looking at him right now._

Despite everything, despite how he had matured (been forced to mature), much of him was still an uncertain teenager attempting something he had never attempted with someone of great importance to him. Gundam’s hand was still stiff and unyielding in his own but, as he waited a minute, two, that hand gradually softened, fingers unhooking so as to carefully, delicately, hold back. Nothing like their competition of strength when they’d gripped at each other’s hands before. No, this was something tenuous, warm and new.

A little frightening. But Hinata grinned anyway, daring now to look up.

Gundam had turned his face away… but his other hand had yanked his scarf up over his cheeks, to hide his features. He thought he glimpsed red but, hey, it could have been a trick of the light.

Feeling far more awake now, Hinata tightened his hand and pulled Gundam along with him.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> These drabbles can be interconnected but most're their own stand-alone thing. 8)


	5. glasses: souda/kuzuryuu

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> In which our intrepid hero, Kuzuryuu Fuyuhiko, discovers he may have a fetish.

Kuzuryuu didn’t know what the hell was intriguing about glasses.

There shouldn’t be _anything_ that interesting about them. You used them to see. Peko had worn glasses for as long as Kuzuryuu had known her, countless others wore glasses, and he’d never once given them a second thought or a second look. In the past he would’ve snorted if anyone asked him whether or not he had a preference for someone with or without glasses. What did he give a damn about glasses for?

He cared about them somewhat, he had learned recently.

Specifically, he cared about Souda’s. Souda wasn’t one to put on his glasses much, especially not when everyone was around—though he had come to be a little more all right with himself, his appearance, donning them every now and again, he still largely preferred his contacts. Still, for some reason, Kuzuryuu always caught himself staring more than he usually did (except when their clothes came off). There was nothing particularly garish about his glasses, either.

Maybe that’s why they drew his attention. They were simple, black-framed glasses that Kuzuryuu could imagine the younger Souda wearing, in class, back when his hair was black. He could imagine him pulling them off, nibbling the end of them, wearing marks into them…

Eh?

 _What the fuck,_ he asked himself.

He had to admit that he wouldn’t mind seeing Souda tease the earpiece of one of the glasses over his lip sometimes, maybe bite at it with his teeth that always looked a little too sharp. He imagined kissing him with the bridge of them biting between their noses, an uncomfortable but not displeasing press. He could imagine Souda naked with nothing but those glasses on, embarrassed but eager for more.

Here was where Kuzuryuu had to admit he might have had a thing for glasses.

At least, a thing for Souda wearing them.

One night, not planning anything in particular, he told Souda he might as well stay over at his cottage—it’d been more than a few nights anyway since they last spent one together. When Souda had shown up later on with his pajamas and glasses on, his hat missing and overall looking adorably ready for bed, Kuzuryuu’s mind all but short-circuited.

Before he knew it, he had pulled Souda inside, efficiently pushed him down on the bed, and crawled on top of him to kiss his mouth in a hard, almost punishing kiss. Souda hadn’t thought—or wanted—to protest. The bite of the glasses between their faces was as pleasant as Kuzuryuu had imagined and when Souda made a muffled protest, moving his hand to take them off, Kuzuryuu batted his hand away. He wrapped his hand around that wrist, pinning it to the bed.

“I want ‘em on,” he said, low and rough to Souda’s mouth.

A mouth which formed an ‘o’ shape, Souda’s naturally dark eyes very wide behind his glasses, comically shocked and doubly turned on. That was nice, too. Kuzuryuu liked seeing the real colour of his eyes and he bowed to Souda’s mouth, kissing again and again, sparing moments to bite the hard plastic earpieces, scrape his teeth over Souda’s ear in the process and elicit shivery grunts and groans.

Later, laying stretched on their stomachs in the bed, sweaty but content, Souda asked him if he had a glasses fetish and Kuzuryuu kicked him hard in the calf.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> 8)


	6. cat's cradle: komaeda/hinata

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> He expected Komaeda to complete cat's cradle easily by himself, but Komaeda showed up in front of him at the beach. His face was unamused and his hands… were completely tangled with red string, to a degree that Hinata had to stare and glance again to confirm that, yes, this was Komaeda and not Tsumiki who had gotten himself tied up like this.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Post canon end... I played a lot of cat's cradle back in my school days.

While Komaeda himself may not have been the most active person there was, his _brain_ was always in motion. No matter the day, no matter the time, his brain was always working away at something. He was often to be found with a book cradled in his lap, pouring over it with a singlemindedness that said he wanted to slip into the book and disappear completely in it.

Hinata couldn’t help but wonder if he did so many things that would work his brain in order to stop thinking. If he was anything like Hinata, he couldn’t _stop_ , and something was always tick-tick-ticking away in there, a pot boiling and ready to overflow, filling your brain no matter how many times you tried to empty it.

Hinata decided to try puzzles.

The rubik’s cube took him a very short time to complete and Komaeda gave him a disparaging smile as if to say “really?” but, after that, he suggested cat’s cradle to him.

He expected Komaeda to complete cat’s cradle easily by himself, but Komaeda showed up in front of him at the beach. His face was unamused and his hands… were completely tangled with red string, to a degree that he had to stare and glance again to confirm that, yes, this was Komaeda and not Tsumiki who had gotten himself tied up like this.

“Hinata-kun is the one who suggested it,” Komaeda said flatly, unamused by the former reserve course and currently recovering SHSL despair putting him in such a position.

Hinata didn’t succeed in covering up a small laugh, looking at the mess of strings and not even sure where to _start_. He set down the basket he’d been using to collect the fish from the water after he’d finished finishing, moving his hands to hover over the tangle of string, Komaeda’s gaze burning a hole into his face. “Sorry, sorry, I’ll help you out of this. How… _did_ you manage this?”

Komaeda just gave him a look like he was stupid.

“I’m pretty sure your luck doesn’t equal ‘tangled up in cat’s cradle’. You sure you’re not just bad at it?” Hinata teased—teasing Komaeda was like teasing a particularly angry cat that wouldn’t hesitate to try to scratch your eyes out. Verbally, at least. Komaeda located and went for weak points with an accuracy Saionji envied.

“Not all of us have a piece of hair we can hook the string on that’ll keep it steady while we play,” Komaeda retorted.

Ohh, it was a gentle jab today. He wasn’t in that bad of a mood after all. Hinata hummed, amused despite himself, his fingers sliding along Komaeda’s as he worked off pieces of string one at a time. He had all-but bound his own hands together, so this… was going to take a little while. Frowning in thought, he thought to just loop the strings he’d gotten loose around one of his hands as he took them off. Komaeda watched him all the while.

“You look as though you’re enjoying yourself, Hinata-kun,” he said.

“Huh? Uh.” How best to say that he _was_ , because Komaeda didn’t often let him this close? It was certainly better from when he’d first woken up, but it was still a distinct work in progress. “No, not really… it’s relaxing. Like winding up a ball of yarn or something.”

Komaeda hummed doubtfully, but let it be.

Finally it looked as though he’d gotten enough off of his hand and Hinata’s expression lightened, his face lifting so he could look at Komaeda. “Look, it’s all done now—”

Then, the strings he had loosely looped around his hand tightened, Komaeda freeing his hands in one smooth motion, and he was knocked over into the sand. He _oof_ ’d in surprise and realised too late that Komaeda had been smiling too, a smile like he’d been _planning_ something, and that plan apparently included him parking himself right on Hinata’s midsection as his deft fingers casually bound Hinata’s hands from wrist to fingertip.

When it was done, Hinata looked between his now-bound hands and Komaeda’s face.

“You satisfied?” he asked dryly, not as unnerved as anyone else would be in his situation. Komaeda just laughed, hooking his thumb in the tangle of the strings at his wrist, giving it a playful tug.

“Not yet. I’m still planning on whether or not I’m going to leave you here like this or bring you around like this with me for the rest of the day.”

Hinata said nothing, just tilted a bold smile at him, as if to say _well, either’s fine by me_.

Komaeda sighed. “Your reaction is boring, Hinata-kun,” he chided in a gentle voice. He tugged at Hinata’s bound hands again when Hinata looked like he was going to say something else, and abruptly his face filled Hinata’s vision. Whoa, when had he come so close—

The kiss was perfunctory and brief, utterly devoid of feeling or sentiment, but it left Hinata reeling far more than anything else Komaeda had done.

“There, that’s a better face. Now, let’s get going, Hinata-kun! We need to bring that back to the restaurant.”

Well before the time they got to the restaurant, though, Hinata would have found a way out of the bindings of his hands.

After all, Komaeda had done them up loosely enough for him to accomplish just that.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Do two words count as cheating? Oh well.


	7. castle: kuzuryuu/hinata

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Hinata is a stablehand. Better that than a knight, he thinks. The problems start when he has to deal with nobility sneaking into their stables to get their horses out— because a prince like Kuzuryuu is damn hard to ignore.

Hinata was a noble knight—

Just kidding. He was a stablehand. Hinata had also never aspired to be a knight—or, if he did, he certainly wasn’t _saying_ as much. Either way, it had never happened and would most likely _never_ happen and, given the way some of the knights complained around here, he didn’t want to be one anyway. When the knights started saying how they wished they were stablehands instead, you learned to appreciate your job more.

Even if it involved cleaning horse poop.

Wrinkling his nose as he maneuvered another pitchfork full of hay into the wheelbarrow, he stopped a moment to wipe the back of his hand over his forehead. There were guests at the castle, which meant double the work. In addition, the stablemaster had gone off somewhere, leaving Hinata the lovely task of mucking out all of the stalls and tending to the horses.

There was one particularly testy black one who kept trying to nip him, but he did what he had to.

When he heard a commotion behind him he turned, prepared to tell the blacksmith’s apprentice that _no_ , no matter how _scary_ his teacher was, he couldn’t hide here—and stopped. That wasn’t Souda. No, indeed, that was about the furthest thing from Souda, a short blond man in finery with a circlet sitting on his head that screamed _I’m royalty!_

So Hinata did what anyone in his position would do.

He turned away, continued scooping poop, and ignored that a noble was in the stables at all.

It wasn’t his job to curry favour with the royalty. His job was to clean up this hay, feed the horses, brush them down, and do it all over again in a few hours. Besides, the noble had just snuck into the stable (from the way he’d been glancing outside warily) so Hinata bet he would be happier if Hinata just acted like he hadn’t noticed at all. Hinata would also be happier about it, but of course it wasn’t about what he wanted to do or anything!

Convincing himself of this, he nearly shouted when a low, authoritative voice said, “Hey.”

He whipped around, almost spooking the horse nearby before he caught himself. Outside of the stall that short blond man was glaring at him—bereft of circlet. Huh? Had he taken it off?

Finding his voice, he slowly said, “Yeah?”

“Where’s my horse’s saddle?”

Hinata blinked. A saddle? He set his pitchfork aside and let himself out of the stall. “Which horse is yours?”

The man frowned but he indicated.

Hinata made a face.

Of course it was the mean, sleek black horse who bit. The horse tossed his head, as if he just remembered the stableboy he had gotten a nice bite of earlier. Jerk. He turned around and headed further back in the stable, where he had been preparing the saddles and other equipment for cleaning—the saddle for the black horse he took, freshly polished, from the wall. After checking no polish would come off and that it was dry and ready to go, he carried it back to the man.

He was about to go attempt saddling the horse, but the man took the saddle from his hands without so much of a word of thanks.

Hinata made a face at his back, picked up his pitchfork, and went back into the stall.

_Nobles._

 

* * *

 

“Hey.”

Hinata gasped, unable to keep it to himself this time, snapping his gaze up. Leaning against a pole nearby was the noble from yesterday. He was missing his fancy circlet again, and was tapping a riding crop lightly against the side of his leg. Hinata tightened the grip on the saddle in his lap that he’d been polishing.

“Y… yes?” he tried for politeness, knowing it fell flat. _This guy really just comes out of nowhere…_

“Were you the one who looked after Arashi yesterday?” the man asked, frowning.

 _Who the hell is that?_ Wait, he was a stableboy. He worked in the stables. That meant that he was talking about his horse. Hinata nodded, hesitant and uncertain. “Yeah… Sorry, did I do something wrong?”

The man shook his head so Hinata supposed he was safe for another day.

“Just.” The man’s face contorted and he grimaced down at his feet before looking back at Hinata. “You did a good job. Thanks.” Something bright flickered and Hinata realised he was holding a gold coin in Hinata’s direction, obviously for his hard work. Hinata swallowed thoughts of what gold could get him, holding up a gloved hand.

“It’s my job. Don’t worry about it,” he said.

The man scowled and flicked his crop hard against the pole behind him, gripping the coin tightly. “What the hell do you want?”

Hinata stared at him.

The man’s anger quickly dissolved when he saw the confused look on Hinata’s face, and he frowned. Uncertain now. “You want something… right?”

“No?” Hinata replied, just as uncertain. What was this conversation? Why were nobles so goddamn weird? He wanted to go home, already…

“…Oh. Then, sorry. Thanks again,” the man hesitantly replied, pocketing the gold coin. As he turned, he stopped, glancing back at Hinata (who no doubt wore a dumb look on his face because nothing about any of this made sense to him right now). “What’s your name?”

“…Hinata.”

“Hinata,” the man echoed, nodding. “I’m Kuzuryuu. See you.”

With that he was gone, sweeping off to get his horse.

Hinata sat, wondering what the hell just happened.

 

* * *

 

“I knew leaving you in charge was the right choice, Hinata,” chuckled the stablemaster, looking proudly around the interior of the stable. “These horses are all in such high spirits.”

“Not all of them,” Hinata replied dryly, glancing to the black horse—Arashi—who nickered as Hinata looked at him. Oh, sure, he acted cute but the minute Hinata got close, Arashi was trying to push against him or nibble on him.

“Hmf.” Tanaka smirked and stroked his chin. “You are still learning, I don’t blame you for not noticing the goodwill that creature holds for you…”

Hinata just rolled his eyes and got back to sweeping.

 

* * *

 

Stretching happily, Hinata made his way out of the stables, ready to take the walk back to the city and back to his little house. He wanted to bathe and then go right to sleep, damn everything else. He was _exhausted_. The visiting nobles still hadn’t left yet and, most strangely of all, Kuzuryuu kept showing up in the stables. Hinata was sure he was a visiting prince, but he didn’t wear his circlet at all and didn’t seem to hold Hinata to any kind of ceremony.

At all.

If it were any other noble, he would’ve been in trouble ten times over by now with the casual way he spoke.

“Hinata,” a voice called from behind him, practically startling him out of his skin.

Before he thought otherwise, he rounded on Kuzuryuu and he hissed: “Can you stop doing that?”

Kuzuryuu looked surprised for a moment—a moment that Hinata thought he’d be in trouble for sure—and then his face transformed. He laughed and smirked. “Sorry. Not my fault you’re jumpy as hell,” he replied, and Hinata cautiously relaxed. “Where’re you going?”

“Home.” Hinata worked one of his shoulders in a circle. “Did you need me to do something before I go?”

He was reluctant to go back in the stables—he wanted to hurry up and go home to sleep, he didn’t want to get roped into something else. But he kept this off of his face as best as he could because, well, Kuzuryuu wasn’t _terrible_ , and he hadn’t demanded anything unreasonable so far. If it was something small, he could do it.

Kuzuryuu appraised him a long moment and then, with a grunt: “Wait here. I’ll be right back.”

Well, that didn’t sound like work.

Hinata nodded anyway, watching Kuzuryuu disappear into the stables and folding his arms over his chest. The air was cool this time of evening, and he thought of stoking up the fire when he got home, of the food he’d bought yesterday that he hoped would still be good for his supper. The clopping of hooves made him look up and he made a face at Arashi, less so Kuzuryuu already mounted on him, leading the horse over to Hinata. Arashi tried to nip at him but Hinata, used to him by now, dodged around him.

“He likes you.”

Hinata looked up—Kuzuryu seemed stunned, frowning down at him. “Are you really calling this ‘liking me’?” he asked incredulously but Kuzuryuu merely shook his head. He held onto the reins to keep his horse still and indicated the saddle behind him. He wanted Hinata to… What. Why. “…You want me to get up there.”

“Yeah.” Kuzuryu arched an eyebrow. “It’s not like I’m asking you to do anything hard.”

 _This is difficult on a whole other level,_ Hinata thought. “Where’re you planning on taking me?”

“Are you always this fucking suspicious? Just get on the damn horse.”

_I don’t want to._

Five minutes later, he was in the saddle behind a triumphant Kuzuryuu, glaring down at the horse under him. Glaring at the back of the noble who he was _not_ going to hold around the waist. Or maybe he would, because Kuzuryuu reached back and grabbed one of his hands and steered one of Hinata’s arms around him.

“You still haven’t told me where we’re going,” Hinata said after several long minutes, after the castle had faded behind them into the dark. Kuzuryuu shrugged lightly.

“I’m taking you home.”

“ _Why._ ”

Kuzuryuu growled a little and Hinata might marvel how easily his temper could kick up when he wasn’t stuck on a horse in a situation he didn’t understand. In his situation, he had leeway to be suspicious! “Be _cause_ , you’ve been taking good care of my horse and equipment and I felt like paying you back. You wouldn’t take the money, so I’m giving you a damn ride. Got it?”

“Got it,” Hinata muttered quietly, looking at the back of that blond head.

Well, if it was something like that, he supposed he could allow it. Bolder now, he slid his arm of his own volition around Kuzuryuu’s waist (he tensed minutely) and leaned lightly against his back, peering over his shoulder. He didn’t know what this passing interest in him was, but Kuzuryuu really wasn’t so bad. As far as nobles went. He didn’t get why he was trying to hide it, but nobles would do what nobles would do.

Kuzuryuu would be gone eventually anyway and _this_ , whatever it was, would fade away.

Hinata leaned more against him, thought about how warm Kuzuryuu’s body was, and tried not to think about anything else. Certainly not anything pertaining to those little rushes in his stomach he got, the small tickling feelings of happiness when Kuzuryuu stopped by just for him.

 

* * *

 

Tanaka was present today—because the stables were busy this morning. The nobles and their guests were apparently all going out hunting this morning. While wondering if Kuzuryuu liked hunting or if he just went along with it because he had to, Hinata saddled up Arashi and only sighed as the horse nibbled at the part of his hair that always stuck straight up. He gave the horse’s muzzle a playful push and Arashi whickered softly at him, letting him finish up with the saddle.

He’d even miss _this_ idiot when Kuzuryuu left, he thought as he took Arashi’s reins and lead him from the stall, to where they were bringing the horses to await the nobles. Arashi kept trying to play, nudging or nibbling him, ignoring the other horses or stablehands, and Hinata tolerated it as he waited for the nobles to come out.

He looked down at the ground as he heard the castle’s door open, the hubbub that usually preceeded and followed the nobility.

Hearing footsteps rapidly approaching, he looked up—and saw a woman with long, silver hair, frowning at the horse whose reins he was holding. Huh? That wasn’t Kuzuryuu. He opened his mouth as though about to warn her to be careful about approaching when Arashi pulled against the reins and snorted _loudly_ right after her, hoof pawing at the ground warningly. The woman stopped, looking at the horse… before sighing.

“As usual,” she muttered, mostly to herself.

“Er… sorry. He seems to be kinda testy,” Hinata offered, feeling bad for her. Especially when he noticed she threw the occasional longing looks at the horse, like she wanted to pet his silky mane or his velvety-soft nose.

“It is fine,” she dismissed, waving her hand. “But his highness will be here shortly, so watch your tongue.”

 _His highness_. So not just a noble but one _right_ up there.

Why the hell had he been sneaking out to hang out with a stablehand, then? While mulling over these decisions, Kuzuryuu appeared, an unhappy look on his face—one that worsened when he saw Hinata. An angry blush bloomed on his cheeks and he stopped where he was, hands clenching and unclenching, before he approached one heavy step at a time. Arashi happily nuzzled him and Hinata handed off the reins, watching Kuzuryuu very reluctantly take them from him.

Feeling somewhat disappointed, Hinata muttered very quietly so just he could hear: “It’s not like I’m gonna tell anyone you’ve been sneaking out, you know.”

Kuzuryuu froze.

Not waiting to be dismissed (as he should, oops), Hinata turned to head back to the stables, absently waving a hand in farewell as he went.

 

* * *

 

Hinata had made himself scarce when they all brought their horses back, relieved when he slipped into the stables and saw no-one but horses. Sighing, he scrubbed his hand over his hair and considered what he should get to work on first. He should have—no, he definitely shouldn’t have said what he did today to Kuzuryuu. He’d looked shocked.

Yeah. He was going to be in trouble.

As he headed toward his supplies, he stopped. Something moved out of the corner of his eye, something that didn’t fit in, and when he looked toward Arashi’s stall, he saw that Kuzuryuu had hauled himself to perch on the door to it, looking down at Hinata with a frown.

Hinata stared. Glanced around. Then back. “Where did you come from?”

Kuzuryuu’s frown dissolved and he rolled his eyes. “I was in the stall, idiot.”

“Oh.”

 _Why?_ His brain wondered. More than that, what should he do now? He fidgeted, uncertain what to say—Kuzuryuu looked just as uncertain. “I didn’t think,” Kuzuryuu began reluctantly, “you knew that I was nobility.”

_You mean to say ‘a prince’._

Hinata shrugged one of his shoulders. “I saw your circlet the first day you snuck in here,” he said, and Kuzuryu scowled fiercely. He ran his hand over his head—he wasn’t wearing it now, but he scratched that spot as though it itched at him now. “But I didn’t bother saying anything ‘cause I figured you just wanted to be left alone.”

“I was convinced you thought I was a servant or something,” Kuzuryuu muttered.

“Huh? No servant would talk like _you_.”

Kuzuryuu’s lips twitched and he slowly relaxed, allowing a cautiously pleased smile to work over his face. “That’s for damn sure. Aside from you.”

Hinata let his gaze wander away, as if he could pretend that he wasn’t far more impertinent than a servant ought to be. He was a stablehand, but _technically_ he was still a servant. As such, he should have been watching his tongue much more—it was just lucky that Kuzuryuu turned out to be a good sort, a lenient sort.

“Hinata,” Kuzuryuu said his name softly. It was the first time he had ever said it like _that_. He slid down from the stall and approached Hinata, who wiped his palms on his trousers nervously the closer he got. “So you really just act like this. It doesn’t even make a difference to you that I’m a prince, huh.”

“…if you get me fired for treating you like I have, I’ll tell the king and queen about you sneaking out,” Hinata said, bolder than he felt, especially with the way Kuzuryuu was looking at him. Those eyes were a bit too hot, too molten, for his liking. He wanted to squirm and also to escape but also to step that much closer. Shit. This was not what was supposed to happen on any day of the week—Hinata was _normal_ , damn it all.

Kuzuryuu’s lips curved up into a smirk. “Guess that I’ll just have to steal you, so I can be sure you won’t blab,” he said, pushing into Hinata’s space, backing him up against the wall nearby. Hinata looked everywhere but directly at him, flustered, even more when Kuzuryuu caught him by the chin. “So?”

“So… ‘so’, what?”

Kuzuryuu rolled his eyes at him like he was a fucking idiot. He probably was, considering the current situation.

“You’re coming back to my country with me, right?” Kuzuryuu pressed. Hinata felt hot from his head down to his toes. “I’ll make you consort.”

“Like hell. I’d rather work in the stables.”

Kuzuryuu snorted and caught him by the back of his neck, dragging him down to his level, until their foreheads matched and until hot breaths ghosted over Hinata’s lips. “Royal stablehand?” he said mockingly. “That sounds fucking stupid, but if that’s what you want, fine. So long as you come back with me.”

“I never agreed—”

Naturally a lie, one Kuzuryuu figured out quickly. He pressed Hinata back against the wall, despite his short stature, guiding the kiss with controlling fingers burning a brand against the back of Hinata’s neck. He bit his lower lip, touch as sharp as the tongue that followed after was hot and Hinata felt weak in the knees as Kuzuryuu all-but ate at his mouth, kissed him far more intensely than any prince should kiss a stablehand they knew all of a couple of weeks.

But it was awfully easy to forget about Kuzuryuu being anybody but Kuzuryuu, even more when a hand slid up the front of his shirt and Kuzuryuu parted to breathe over his wet lips. It gave Hinata shivers and he resented him for how composed he seemed. “You’re gonna come with me, right?” he said, voice low and husky. Hinata tried to sigh, tried to huff or seem put out, but all he did was groan as Kuzuryuu slid his hand up his chest.

“Yes, _fine_ , now just get off me before I tell the queen and king you felt me up.”

Kuzuryuu’s laughter had to be the best thing he’d ever heard and Hinata put aside any lingering dreams of being a knight.

He liked this job fine after all.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Silly AUs are my faves.


	8. glance: souda/kuzuryuu

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Post-canon end... it's a little thing but hey, doing my best to keep on writing. Also I'm like OH GOD WHAT'S GOING TO HAPPEN over the last ep of DR3 coming up tomorrow so.

When did it start?

Surely not when Kuzuryuu was laying at their feet, doing what Souda thought was bleeding out. That couldn’t be it, could it? Did it start afterward? When they went to see him in the hospital? That small and strangely vulnerable form under stark and unwrinkled sheets, bandaged up all over?

He wasn’t sure when, but eventually it was hard to take his eyes off of him.

He liked Sonia, damn it. That Kuzuryuu kept catching his attention didn’t change this fact. Even if, well, Sonia wouldn’t look at him in a special way and Souda wondered if she ever would.

Maybe it was envy, Souda thought. Here was Kuzuryuu who none of them had really gotten along with before, here was Kuzuryuu beginning to change, beginning to speak with them, softening his attitude and getting attitudes softening toward him in turn. Hell, even Saionji faltered, began to change in kind, responding to what she saw from Kuzuryuu.

Were this middle school, the younger Souda might have asked him how he did it—how _he_ could do something like that.

Changing, huh… changing.

But Souda wasn’t sure that was exactly it. When he looked at Kuzuryuu, he didn’t feel an overwhelming urge to quiz him on why he was doing so much better now, or how he’d become able to change in the first place (besides what had happened with Pekoyama). Rather, he wanted to talk to the guy more. He wanted to ask him other things, wanted to chat about pointless things like he had with his own friend so long ago now.

He wanted to ask what Kuzuryuu thought about Souda… for example. Could they be friends? Souda thought so.

That had to be it. He wanted to be friends, even though he wondered and fretted over whether or not he could truly be friends with him.

That explanation for the way Kuzuryuu kept catching his eye even worked, for a while.

Until they opened up their eyes and found themselves in the world that they had ruined.

Souda struggled for breath, his mind going, memories not his own flooding into him—no, they were his. Moments. Instants. Visions as though from the very bottom of nightmares, bears, things he had created, so many things he had made, tainted his hands with. He wanted to deny it all at once and he thought he thought he was falling into despair becoming despair so many b o d i e s—

Then something blond was in his vision. He thought it was Sonia, lit from behind like an angel.

But.

“Idiot—breathe, Souda! Deep breaths, damn it! You sure as hell aren’t gonna be despair now, so fucking _look at me_!”

Sonia didn’t have that deep of a voice. Nor did she have a baby face or a beauty mark in that place. Her hands wouldn’t hold at him in that way, gripping him as though to support him as much as they seemed as though they were seconds away from throttling him.

And in that instant of his mind clearing, of more familiar memories rising to the forefront of his mind, Souda thought an inane and silly thing:

 _Okay. Maybe it_ ain’t _that I want to be just friends._

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Btw, you can feel free to leave one-word prompts for me! No pairings b/c I'll figure out what the prompt pings me for but yes... I'm always looking for writing prompts.


	9. gundam/hinata: wake

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> DR3 needs to hurry up and throw me a bone. but if they won't give me dr2 characters waking up, I'll write them myself!!! I also enjoy the fan theory that Dangan Island was the 5 DR2 kids who made it at the end going back and trying to wake up the rest of their classmates.
> 
> also, thank you kindly to anyone who's been reading this/leaving kudos/comments... they all give me life.

Space was distorting, crumbling all around him.

It was a beach, a beautiful beach—no, it was a wasteland. Crumbling buildings. A sky dyed with red, tainted, as though a film were stretched between earth and sun. He stood in the midst of wreckage, staring vacantly, before his body seemed to catch up, his brain, adjusting to the change in surroundings but still with a sluggish sense of detachment. As if his body did not belong to him.

“Hinata?”

It was the first word to leave Tanaka Gundam’s mouth. That and no other, for he’d just been speaking with him—he’d just been there… hadn’t he? Except now Gundam stood alone in a landscape that reeked without smelling without anything, as numbers and symbols flickered across the sky above. Then he saw him, a figure further away, silhouetted.

“Hinata,” he said again, disliking the urgency that tinged his voice. He sped his motions, but somehow he couldn’t get any closer. At least, not as fast as he wanted.

Gundam realised with a start, while looking toward him, that his eyes were _red_.

He was talking, too, his head tipped back to gaze upward as though seeing something in the sky.

“—turn it off, Souda. This is all I can do for today,” Hinata was saying, one hand on his hip. The dusty, stagnant air buffeted his hair, stirring it like it made Gundam’s scarf flap out behind him. “I don’t know why it’s an error like this… after all, have our memories tainted it somehow?”

There was a buzz, crackle of static that made Tanaka wince.

But, Hinata just nodded.

“Yeah, better to turn it off for now anyway. We’ll try again…” He trailed off, bringing his hand up to the side of his neck, rubbing his palm there. His shoulders rose and fell with a deep sigh and he turned his body slightly, toward where Gundam was standing.

Their eyes locked. Hinata froze. Gundam stared at him.

“Hinata, what—”

The moment he asked the question, the moment Hinata started toward him, motions jerky and urgent as though he were racing against something, the world went black.

 

* * *

 

Beeping. Steadily.

Black space.

…No.

There was light pressing on his eyelids and Tanaka swallowed against something hard lodged in his throat. His eyes felt starchy, glued together, and opening them was a task, never mind getting them to focus. Something was over his head, something filmy and white that didn’t belong there. He felt as though he were enclosed, trapped in something.

His mind was spinning, blurring.

He thought he saw a face on the other side of the _something_ over him.

Then, he closed his eyes and slipped back into sleep.

 

* * *

 

Something was wrong.

He was in this place again—no, this wasn’t the first time he had been here. Gundam’s fingers drummed an agitated rhythm against his upper arm as his hamsters stirred in his scarf. He soothed them with low murmurs and strokes of his fingers and then gazed forward fixedly at the group of people who had all gathered on the beach.

He knew all of their names, and yet they were introducing themselves to each other as if they had never met before.

Hinata broke away from speaking to Hanamura, met his gaze and Gundam wondered if he saw hesitation in him. Like an uncertain animal, a dog timid about approaching after it had done wrong, and in those not-red eyes he saw what he had in that wasteland. Gundam waited for him to approach, watched (unimpressed) as he extended a hand, opened his mouth—

“I know who you are, Hinata Hajime,” he informed him, cool and low. “I do not forget someone who I’ve bestowed my power on so easily.”

Hinata’s hand spasmed.

“What I do not understand is why we are all like this again, all of us alive—”

“You,” Hinata choked out, “I don’t know what you…”

Gundam hadn’t known either, until this very moment. He moved forward, gripping at his hand powerfully, squeezing Hinata’s fingers tightly with his own and glowering down at him. “Do not take me for a man who forgets his crimes so easily! What _is_ all of this, Hinata?!”

Memories.

Nidai, dead.

He had killed him. He had not fought when they accused him, when they discovered it had been him. They were all going to die unless one of them did something, he believed. He believed that more than anything. That’s why he was willing to… but then, what was this? What was this peaceful island life? What’s more, they had just _gone_ through many, many days peacefully together. Many days where he did not remember that they _had_ experienced murders, a killing _game_ , he remembered each trial, he remembered his own death and _yet_ …!

It was frightening, to not remember and to remember at the same time. No, to not understand was terror in itself.

“You know what’s going on,” Tanaka said, pushing himself into Hinata’s space, staring at him. “You _do_ , and if you truly believe yourself worthy of my power, then _tell me_!”

Static roared overhead.

Beach changed to cracked concrete underfoot. His hand was still gripping Hinata’s, so he had him close this time when they were in the ruined landscape, what could only be a broken Tokyo. The others had vanished—almost all of them. _Almost_. Kuzuryuu stood not far away, as astonished as Gundam was, and Owari as well let out a small _tch_ and glared around her before she focused on Gundam and Hinata.

“I’ll explain everything,” Hinata said at long last, his hand flexing in Gundam’s. Tanaka looked back to him, staring furiously at his face, but Hinata’s cheeks had flushed, his eyes wide (red, red eyes) as he looked back at Tanaka like he wanted to consume him. “I promise. So come with us, Tanaka.”

Gundam frowned, uncertain, but he _knew_ —

Hinata Hajime was someone who he had put his trust in.

“Very well.”

The world went black.

 

* * *

 

Something was beeping again.

He was so, _so_ tired. But when Gundam flexed his hand and found it empty, the resulting jolt began to chase his exhaustion from him. He opened his eyes wider, staring upward defiantly as though to battle his own body, a body that wanted him to rest, to sink back into whatever dream he had been having for so long. He moved the hand lacking Hinata’s, pressing it up.

The sensation of cold, smooth glass.

He pushed harder. It didn’t budge, not at first. Gundam snarled softly, frustrated, but fear was coming back again, stronger than any other emotion. Memories swirled in his head, and this time, coiling like vines, choking a building, were ones that he didn’t recognise.

He didn’t recognise the _him_ in them.

He slammed his fist so hard against the glass that it shook.

A hissing noise and then the cover moved abruptly as if automated, lifting away from him, and Gundam sucked in air that wasn’t cleared and filtered, smelled faintly of salt, of iron, old technology and dust. He glimpsed red eyes before a body knocked straight into him, covering up his own in a pod that was much too small to accommodate two people.

Gundam stilled, everything grinding to an excruciating halt. His memories faded to a persistent buzz at the back of his mind, easy to ignore for the time being. He looked hesitantly downward, both of his hands lifted up, fingers splayed apart to either side of the figure who was burying their face in his chest, their back heaving as if from ragged breaths. At the very least, he would recognise that brown hair anywhere, remembered times now during that hellish murder game when Hinata would come closer, when they dared to do things that were more than friends would do, twining their fingers and leaning their sides together and…

“I promised I’ll explain everything, and I will,” Hinata said fiercely into his chest. “But… first, Tanaka…”

Reeling from _everything_ , Gundam only stared at him, baffled, when he lifted his face and met his eyes. They were alien and strange but if he thought about them as a transference of his power (however ridiculous that was), he felt somewhat better.

“Welcome back, I guess?” Hinata smiled feebly, helplessly.

He wasn’t certain where exactly he had been, nor how long Hinata had been waiting for him to return here—wherever _here_ was—but the tone in which he said those words were heartfelt.

“…I’m back,” he replied eventually.

Shortly after, he would badger Hinata for a proper explanation for the confusion, for all of the events that had happened, elapsed in too short of a time. He would come to learn about everything. But for a brief moment he could spare a moment or two to encircle Hinata with his arm, squeeze him close and then jerk back and flush violently later when the others came to see why they were taking so long.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> You can feel free to leave one-word prompts for me! No pairings b/c I'll figure out what the prompt pings me for but I'm always looking for writing prompts.


	10. komaeda/hinata: assorted

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> a bunch of Komaeda/Hinata drabbles... no, there is never enough for this pairing!!

**guilty**

Komaeda didn’t feel guilty. Not when he rigged up the over-elaborate scheme, not when he said that he had bombs ready, not when he strapped himself down and prepared to die.

He didn’t.

Surely he didn’t.

He convinced himself of that as much as he convinced himself that he didn’t, in his last moments trying desperately to breathe, think of Hinata’s face. He didn’t remember that moment where he leaned over a boy laying prone in the sand.

 

* * *

 

**competitive**

Hinata was, well, popular.

He saw him flitting about from person to person—who _didn’t_ he form a close relationship to on the island? Komaeda was certain that none of them escaped his frankness, his dry or exasperated tone of voice, the way he wore his smiles on his face, like he wasn’t certain how they fit there.

So what if Komaeda was the first to slide into a chair next to him at breakfast or took a particular pleasure from being the first to greet him?

It wasn’t as though he were competitive or anything.

 

* * *

 

**suitable**

“It didn’t look good on you anyway,” Komaeda remarked idly.

They’d had time to speak, to slowly warm up to one another—rather, for Komaeda to stop avoiding Hinata and everyone else as though they were diseased (and in his mind they were, for what was despair if not an incurable illness?).

Hinata smiled wryly and fingered a short chunk of his bangs. No long hair. “Should I thank you for that?”

“If you want to, Hinata-kun. It’s sort of a compliment,” was Komaeda’s lofty response.

 

* * *

 

**serious**

Hinata knew his serious expressions by now.

He knew that, when Komaeda didn’t say anything, he was thinking. Often, he’d let a long pause elapse before he answered in a tone that implied he wasn’t taking anything seriously at all. But Hinata _knew_ because what else did he do if not watch him too much, too often?

Komaeda was serious enough in his own right. Hinata wondered if it was just that he didn’t want anyone to know.

 

* * *

 

**practical**

“You really don’t have to—” Komaeda winced at another tug to his hair. Hinata was frowning behind him as he attempted to wrestle the pale hair into some form of order. At the very least, into a ponytail out of the way. But the wispy strands were intent on escape.

“What’re you gonna do if you get something in it? It’s better off like this,” Hinata replied, snappish—he was losing patience, Komaeda thought with a tickle of amusement.

“All right, all right—ow—”

 

* * *

 

**happy**

What did it mean, to be happy? Komaeda thought he knew that, once. Back when he was young, before his luck had meticulously taken each and every thing from him, only to compensate him with something it thought was greater.

‘Lucky’.

Could people find happiness in wealth, in success, when everything was gone and the future set with something else in store for you? He didn’t know.

However, he thought that watching Hinata at times granted him a sense of peace that came very close.

 

* * *

 

**global**

Hope was something that Komaeda believed and still believed was one of the most important things out there. He had operated by _hoping_ for so long, he kept living because he could do _something_ to further hope.

It could change the world.

Then, why had everything fallen into despair? Hope should have been something to span the world over but, instead, he spread despair. He believed hope could triumph over it and yet… had it? Had it not?

He still didn’t know the future to come.

 

* * *

 

**nervous**

Frowning in the mirror at himself, Komaeda tugged the collar of the shirt he wore, rumpling it up.

A date. Honestly… after the end of the world, he was nervous about something like a date? Furthermore, he never thought he’d ever go on a date with a reserve student-cum-Super High School Level Hope-cum-Super High School Level Despair-cum-Hinata Hajime.

Yet here he was. On an island where all of them lived every day with each other.

He pressed his forehead against the cold glass of the mirror and closed his eyes.

_Calm down._

 

* * *

 

**aware**

It was never good to be too aware of someone, Hinata thought.

You started to notice all these _little things_ that wouldn’t otherwise matter. Like the way Komaeda’s long, pale fingers tucked his hair behind his ear sometimes when he was trying to see something better. The way he might pick at the collar of his shirt, pulling it out if the day were too hot.

How their elbows and knees would knock together sometimes, when walking together or sitting.

The small, private smile that Komaeda would wear when they did.

Hinata was going to go crazy.

 

* * *

 

**educational**

Usami claimed some of their outings were educational, but Hinata had to doubt it.

They were certainly educational in _another_ sense, like when he and Komaeda slipped away from the others to ‘collect things’ or ‘clean up’. Hinata got to learn in detail the sound and feel of Komaeda’s breathy sighs against his mouth when they kissed, or how cold his fingers could be against Hinata’s back—no matter how warm the day was.

So while their outings were educational, it was only in the sense of learning about Komaeda Nagito.


	11. chihiro/mondo: assorted

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> my dr1 otp... er, the first one of these drabbles is depressing BUT THEY'RE ALL CUTE AFTER THAT (more or less)

**sorry**

There would never be a chance to apologise.

The end was the end. Once someone was gone, they weren’t coming back—Mondo knew that from his brother and he knew it now, standing on trial with his tongue glued to the roof of his mouth, every beat of his heart screaming for someone to look at him. To accuse him.

It was his fault. It was the end.

He was sorry, so fucking sorry, but he couldn’t say that to Chihiro.

 

* * *

 

**odd**

That kid—Fujisaki—“she” was a damn odd one.

Rather than be afraid of Mondo, avoid him like he was used to seeing others do, the little programmer ended up gravitating to him. Speaking to him in that soft, shy voice, peeking up at him through flyaway bangs.

Before he even knew it, Mondo had Fujisaki often following along with him, Fujisaki and Kuwata with him at lunchtimes, sometimes even Ishimaru if he stopped being rigid for half a second.

Fujisaki, though, was just the kind of odd Mondo liked.

 

* * *

 

**comprehensive**

“Um, Oowada-kun…? I’m sorry, are my notes no good after all? I’ve never taught anyone before, so…”

Fretting, Chihiro peered anxiously at him. Mondo’s face was planted against the desk that they were sharing as Chihiro tried his best to go through his notes from class today with him.

“Ain’t your fault, Fujisaki,” Mondo mumbled into the wood. “I’m just a damn idiot.”

Chihiro stiffened, as if he had been called an idiot himself, and loudly replied: “Oowada-kun isn’t an idiot! Um! I’ll do my best, so I definitely won’t let you fail the next test!”

Mondo just groaned.

 

* * *

 

**suspicious**

Chihiro supposed that he was lucky that Mondo wasn’t the suspicious sort.

Kirigiri-san, well, he had half-suspected she noticed something about him, maybe his true gender he did his best to cover up with skirts and soft, feminine tops. But Mondo was the type who he could slip up around and who wouldn’t notice anything amiss.

Though, sometimes… sometimes, he wished Mondo would notice.

 

* * *

 

**hot**

“Ah…”

When Chihiro came in one morning, dressed lightly for the summer heat, he had to stop short. Mondo was sprawled back in his desk chair, his head lolling backward—nowhere was the signature pompadour. Rather, his hair was all combed back into a ponytail.

Mondo noticed him, greeted him with a lazy wave, and Chihiro had to struggle furiously the rest of the day not to _stare_. 

 

* * *

 

**afraid**

“Oi, Fujisaki. I don’t… I dunno, scare you or anything, do I?”

Chihiro stared blankly at Mondo, his hands full of papers he’d been tapping together (he was collecting them for their teacher). It took another minute for the question to really _get through_ and then his mouth fell open and he shook his head back and forth.

“N—no! Of course not! I like Oowada-kun a lot, you’ve never scared me,” Chihiro replied, his voice impassioned.

He missed the way that Mondo blushed, but didn’t miss the gruff and somehow pleased “huh. Well, ‘kay.”

 

* * *

 

**interesting**

While it took Chihiro a little while to realise it fully, it wasn’t just admiration he felt for Mondo.

Naturally, there was a great deal of affection there. Mondo was—a _friend_ , so he thought, and he _did_ want to become someone more like him… But there was also something else. He was curious about him, Chihiro thought.

He didn’t necessarily want to mimic him, but he wanted to remember and tuck away each moment and any thing he observed him doing away in his heart.

 

* * *

 

**mad**

One day it occurred to him—damn, but had he ever seen Fujisaki get angry?

Mondo crashed down into the desk in front of Fujisaki’s, drawing the attention of two big, immediately curious eyes. “Does anythin’ piss you off?” he asked, blunter than most would, but Fujisaki’s mouth merely rounded before he tilted his head to one side like an adorable little bird.

“Um, sometimes… when my dad looks at my codes when I’m not around…?”

Mondo couldn’t imagine it.

(He wanted to see it.)

 

* * *

 

**poetry**

Chihiro normally just preferred to get out all of his thoughts in his codes. It was easy to get lost in it, easy to forget things… but at the same time, some thoughts had come to him recently that he couldn’t get rid of in code—at least, not so easily.

So, while hesitant at first, he slowly wrote them out, pouring feeling and sensation and whatever into poetry he didn’t even know was any good.

Well… it was fine so long as no-one ever saw it. Especially Mondo.

 

* * *

 

**bathroom**

It was the simplest way for it to happen. That was why Chihiro thought it never would happen this way.

Chihiro tended to pick the furthest bathrooms, the ones that didn’t get used, going there only when he knew no-one would be around. He thought it would be fine again but when the door opened just for him and Mondo to lock their gazes, he felt as though he were falling into a deep, deep pit.

 

* * *

 

**injury**

It wasn’t unusual for Mondo to come into class with scrapes, cuts or bruises.

A particularly nasty one on his face, though, had Chihiro hustling him to the nurse’s office, taking control and herding Mondo into a chair despite Mondo’s protests. He hissed and winced when Chihiro dabbed at his face and the blood on it carefully, patching it up.

When Mondo encircled him with an arm and buried his face in Chihiro’s chest with a muffled “’s all the medicine I need,” Chihiro had no idea how to respond except blush to the tips of his ears.

 

* * *

 

**opportunity**

Being as short as he was, it was a little difficult sometimes for Chihiro to find, well, chances to touch or approach Mondo. He could cuddle into his side or take his hand, but if he wanted to kiss his cheek he had to urge him to bend down first.

 _Except_.

When Mondo was sitting, sprawled lazily in his chair, when the rest of their class was missing, Chihiro approached him quick and quiet, ducking around him (Mondo startled before blinking) to plant a quick, sweet kiss to his mouth.

Mondo went redder than Chihiro _ever_ had.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> sheds a tear... I love them


	12. hinata/komaeda + kuzuryuu/souda: winter drabbles

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Just a few lil somethings...

* * *

 Hinata/Komaeda

* * *

 

**mistletoe**

“If you eat the leaves or berries, you might die, so it’s dangerous to be under one in case the berries just fall down into your mouth—”  **  
**

Hinata grimaced as he pulled the plant away from where he’d dangled it over the two of their heads, feeling stupid. “Never mind, then. Forget it.”

Komaeda blinked. “I didn’t say I didn’t want to kiss you, though, Hinata-kun?” With a sweet (if somehow provocative) smile, he twined his arm around Hinata’s neck. “And did you know that the tradition used to be that you’d kiss until all the berries were plucked?”

 

* * *

 

**gloves**

Hinata often didn’t think before he headed outside. Today was no exception.

Sighing, Komaeda scooped up what he’d left behind, hurrying out into the cold after him, calling a “Hinata-kun!”

When he turned, Komaeda caught his wrists, slowly and deliberately slid his gloves on his hands, onto each and every finger with brushes of his own. Hinata blushed, even though Komaeda was only putting on his gloves… so silly. When he squeezed Hinata’s now-gloved hands in both his own, Hinata leaned in and Komaeda murmured: “See you when you come home.”

It was cute to leave him lacking a kiss, looking flushed as Komaeda trotted back to warmth and shelter.

 

* * *

 

**slush**

The first snowfall was always pretty. It was when water blended with snow and the dirt underneath that Hinata started grimacing every time he went outside.

Worst still was that, no matter how much slush there was, Komaeda’s heel would inevitably skid.

…Then again, it meant he had an excuse to encircle his slim waist with his arm to keep him from faceplanting into the snow, so maybe it wasn’t so bad after all?

 

* * *

 

**influenza**

Whenever Komaeda got sick, Hinata was on pins and needles.

He was susceptible to all the worst side effects, the worst bouts of illness; a cold caused him to rapidly deteriorate. And Hinata would be there through it all, at his bedside dabbing sweat from his skin with a cool cloth or wrapping him in more blankets when he started to shiver violently.

He would only feel relief when tired, pale eyes would open and Komaeda would look at him. “Are you worrying too much about someone like me again?” he’d ask in a cracking voice, half-smiling.

 

* * *

 Kuzuryuu/Souda

* * *

 

**frigid**

Spending winter on a ship was the _worst_.

The moment Souda stepped out on the deck to get some fresh air was when the bitter cold wind _slapped him in the face_. The only good thing about it was that, when he went back into his cabin while puffing warm air on his red, cold hands, Kuzuryuu would sigh at him and reach up to cradle his face in his hands to warm him up.

 

* * *

 

**outage**

The problem with power outages was that Souda didn’t get to sit inside and enjoy them. No, he had to be the one to fuss with the power; he had to find what had been knocked out in the middle of a snowstorm. He’d dressed up, pulled a scarf over the lower half of his face, snow goggles over his eyes—

But Kuzuryuu came with him. Even though he didn’t have to, he’d hand Souda his tools, his equipment or hold the flashlight for him.

That bastard, making Souda want to kiss the life out of him!

 

* * *

 

**long-johns**

As of the moment, Kuzuryuu was in the midst of a crisis.

He glared down at Souda, sprawled on the bed underneath him—rather, he glared at what he was wearing. He’d just managed to get them both in the mood, stirred up, and yet…

“It’s cold outside,” Souda said defensively.

Kuzuryuu started to like the long-johns more once he asked (ordered) Souda to take them off for him and he got to watch him struggle, bend his body this way and that as he fought out of them.


	13. halloween: souda/kuzuryuu

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Several Halloween/autumn-themed snapshots featuring Souda and Kuzuryuu. From spoopy decorations to horror movies.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> what do you mean it's still september

**skeletons**

“Ugyaaah!”

“Oh, for fuck’s sake,” Kuzuryuu muttered, pinching hard between his eyebrows. He dodged Souda’s wild flailing, but didn’t bother to save him when he fell down. Souda was used to it by now. “Mioda! What the hell did we agree on about Halloween decorations?!”

“Ukiki,” snickered a voice from behind the waving skeleton. Mioda poked her head out, eyes glittering with mischief. “Ibuki can’t remember, but skeletons are essential! Kazuichi-chan’s reaction is proof!”

“This guy reacts like this to way too much shit…”

Sighing, Kuzuryuu resigned himself to scooping his hands under Souda’s arms and later breaking up the ‘argument’ (Mioda never argued, just stirred up others) once Souda got his wits about him.

* * *

**costumes**

“So? What d’you think?”

Souda posed, smirking as he pressed the overlarge paw of the costume right on his chest. Rather than an impressed reaction, Kuzuryuu looked blankly at him, like someone had just told him that Souda was an amazing, charismatic person. When another minute ticked by with Kuzuryuu’s eye still wide, Souda’s face turned into a scowl as he rounded on his boyfriend.

“No, uh—it really doesn’t suit you.”

“What! How the hell doesn’t it suit me?! I’m a wolf! Prowlin’ through the night, findin’…” He cast a significant glance at Kuzuryuu who had a sudden, horrible premonition. “…fair, uh, _people_ lost in the woods and preying on them.”

He leaned closer, mock-growling and going to mock-bite at the air and Kuzuryuu groaned, shoving his hand in his face. “You? There’s no way. More like a puppy about to get neutered.”

Souda gasped, slapping both hands over his crotch and glaring furiously.

The loud laughter Kuzuryuu burst into _wasn’t_ what he was going for.

Sulking, he turned his back on him and stomped off toward the closet, beginning to strip out of the costume. Halloween, ruined! Dammit! All he wanted was to be matching with Kuzuryuu but _no_ , Kuzuryuu had to go and ruin it by saying it didn’t suit him and why wouldn’t it suit him?! He was a beast! A wolf!

He muttered to himself as he plucked off the ears on his head, “What the hell, I even bought you a costume and everything.”

“Oi, don’t sulk.”

Souda ignored him and kept sulking.

“Jeez,” Kuzuryuu sighed. “What about this? We’ll go and get something _together_. ‘Kay, idiot?”

Uh, it wasn’t _‘kay_ , but the idea had its appeal. Souda stared into the closet for several long moments, until Kuzuryuu’s hand brushed his back and Kuzuryuu’s low voice softly repeated _okay?_

“Fine! Whatever!” Souda threw up his hands and pretended he wasn’t a total sucker and wasn’t totally endeared.

(Kuzuryuu knew.)

* * *

**pumpkin**

“What’d you get?” Souda craned over toward Kuzuryuu, who cradled his paper cup protectively to his chest. Kuzuryuu glanced sharply at him as he took what had to be an _aggressive swig_ of the beverage before looking pointedly away.

“Caramel pumpkin latte,” he said dismissively, like he wasn’t acting like he’d suck the whole drink down in a second if it weren’t hot as hell.

Souda raised his eyebrow. “What’s it like? Sweet, probably.”

Kuzuryuu glared. Sipped. _Threateningly_. What, was he trying to be manly?

“Pumpkin. Why’re you askin’ so many questions? Drink your own,” Kuzuryuu replied, nodding at the can of hot ginger ale which was, well, Souda _settling_. He really wasn’t interested in testing out the numerous different drinks that cafes or stores offered at this time of year, but he didn’t want something cold… So his drink from the nearest vending machine did just as well.

“Well, y’know, when I see you enjoying it so much I get curious!” Souda _leaned more_ toward him.

“Like hell, this was expensive.” Kuzuryuu clutched his drink like Souda was going to fight him for it. “You wanna try it, we’ll go back and you can get one.”

“I only want a taste! Why’re you so stingy!”

“I’m not stingy, it’s damn expensive, so—”

Struck with a brilliant idea, Souda swooped in and kissed him, licking his mouth with a flash of his tongue. Kuzuryuu’s eyes popped wide open and he muffled a noise (indignant? Happy?) but it was over just as quick as that, with Souda wrinkling his nose and sticking out his tongue.

“Ehh, I don’t get the appeal,” he declared.

Flushing darkly, Kuzuryuu snarled a series of unintelligible swear words, grabbed Souda by his stupid pink scarf and yanked him punishingly.

It was totally worth it, though.

* * *

**candy**

Souda sighed loudly as he dropped another handful of wrappers into the nearby wastebin, glancing flatly toward the blond sprawled limply over the couch. Another sigh, _for good measure_ , and he straightened up, grimacing down at his sticky fingers—and he hadn’t even eaten a bit of candy! By the time he had turned around, it was _gone_!

What was this guy, a sweets vacuum?!

“Hope you’re feelin’ proud of yourself,” he grumbled. “Layin’ yourself up like this.”

“Ugh.” Kuzuryuu groaned, one of his forearms resting across his face, the other hand dangling over the side of the couch. And yet, _and yet_ , Kuzuryuu’s arm swayed toward a bag laying nearby, a bag containing but a bare few scraps of the candy remaining. Souda lunged, snatching it away before Kuzuryuu had a chance to stuff _even more_ in his face!

“No! I’m stagin’ an intervention!” he declared, holding the bag aloft. “No more candy!”

“I’m fine, idiot. Seriously,” Kuzuryuu tried. He’d normally be more threatening about it, acting like Souda was accusing him of a crime or half-heartedly attempting to hide that he liked sweets (Souda knew that fact way too well by now).

_Not convincing at all._

And this was Souda, who had to go _buy him stomach medicine_ , so it was _especially_ unconvincing.

Souda huffed, rolling his eyes and pushed a bottle into Kuzuryuu’s hands instead. “Drink that,” he directed as he plopped next to the couch. Kuzuryuu squinted resentfully at the bottle of ginger tea. “It’ll help you feel better.”

He folded his arms right next to Kuzuryuu’s head, propping his chin on them as Kuzuryuu reluctantly drank the tea.

“Now you can’t call me an idiot for, like, a week,” Souda whispered, and Kuzuryuu reached his free hand over to smack him.

* * *

**horror**

Okay, so maybe Kuzuryuu felt _a little bad_ for Souda by now after dragging him kicking and screaming from his room to the movie marathon. He didn’t think he’d be so _bad_ with horror movies, though, really. He should’ve known, but he couldn’t possibly have predicted Souda simultaneously burying himself in a blanket and under a pillow but also trying to keep an eye on the big-screen television like the monsters were going to come out and get him.

The rest of their group were enjoying it, if occasionally interrupting the movie with minor squabbles amongst themselves over _popcorn_ or _spoilers_ or _Sonia we don’t really need to know the occult history of witches_.

Everyone but Souda.

Taking pity on the poor, suffering mechanic, Kuzuryuu shuffled backward until he was next to the blanket-shaped lump that was Souda. It jerked, shivering, and then the very edge of the blanket lifted so Souda could confirm it was him and not some—some— _clown_ or some shit!

“Here, you can hold my hand,” Kuzuryuu said, voice low and smile this side of teasing.

Souda glared at him… but, to Kuzuryuu’s surprise, a hot and clammy hand almost immediately shot out to grip his.

“I hate horror movies,” he muttered and _kept_ muttering, but he tangled his fingers with Kuzuryuu and Kuzuryuu thought to himself _I think I might like them._


	14. souda/kuzuryuu, hinata/komaeda, gundam/hinata, mondo/chihiro: assorted

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> A collection of various short fics and drabbles, inspired by one-word prompts. The fourteenth:
> 
> Assorted pairings and drabbles written to random word prompts. Gundam deals poorly with chores but Hinata's good at offering incentives, Souda and Kuzuryuu maturely discuss consent (and don't just loudly argue what are you talking about, don't you know these characters), Chihiro and Mondo are cute; and Komaeda pretends he doesn't worry about Hinata getting hurt.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> why do I only do these when the seasons change???? ANYWAY HERE Y’ALL GO, an assortment of pairings and drabbles
> 
> SPOILERS for the dr3 anime/end of dr2 and such as usual!!

* * *

Mondo/Chihiro

* * *

 

**improve**

“Oowada-kun, amazing!”

Chihiro beamed, staring happily at the mark on the top of Mondo’s test. It—all right, it was still in _bright red_ to indicate that he had failed, but it was a _higher fail than usual_. Even Mondo couldn’t keep down a smile at Chihiro’s infectious good humour.

Plus, everything got even better when Chihiro hugged him around his neck and he could sneak in a kiss when no-one else was paying attention.

 

* * *

 

**calculation**

Programming could be a delicate task. You had to think about and consider a lot of variables, the type of program that you wanted to make versus the tools that you had to make it. Chihiro had calculations of all kinds going through his head, though admittedly the most frustrating of mistakes were _when he messed up the code somewhere_.

He knew the mistake was _in here,_ he just had to _find it_.

“…Oi, Fujisaki, want to take a break?”

Oowada-kun, sweetheart that he was, was checking on him. But Chihiro only answered with a small grunt, too focused to break concentration. His head was in his hands, forehead supported by the heels of his hands, gaze zeroed in on computer screen.

“Ah— no, huh? ‘Kay. You should at least move.”

To his surprise, Chihiro found himself shifting. Not of his own volition, but because of Mondo’s big hands scooping under him, lifting him up effortlessly. He blinked, deposited such that he could lean back a big, muscular chest, his laptop set gingerly in his lap.

Freed from his hunched posture, he was oddly refreshed, even more so by the warmth behind him. Mondo settled his hand on Chihiro’s hip, stroking absently with his thumb, back and forth, back and forth…

Chihiro smiled, tilting his head back to kiss under his chin. “Thanks, Oowada-kun.”

 

* * *

 Souda/Kuzuryuu

* * *

 

**spread**

“What’re you making?”

Souda nearly had a damn _heart attack_ , gasping loudly and clutching his hand to his chest. He whirled around, glaring viciously, to the point where even Kuzuryuu looked surprised and put out. “It’s a secret! How’d you come in here?! I told Owari to guard the door!”

“I didn’t see her.”

“Huh?!”

Later, Souda would find out what ruined his birthday surprise for Kuzuryuu was Owari’s _easily distracted nature, as per usual_. Life wasn’t fair!

… But, at the very least, Kuzuryuu liked the spread of food, and especially the cake Souda put together. Even though Hanamura whined about how _he_ could’ve helped with the cake, Souda-kun didn’t have to go and lock him out of the kitchen when he was doing it…

 

* * *

 

**deprive**

Souda _sulked_.

Not that Kuzuryuu didn’t know why. He was the cause of it, after all. He’d quite firmly taken away one of the things Souda was working on. Day in and day out he had spent all of his time in his room and Kuzuryuu wouldn’t have _minded_ so much if he weren’t, you know, neglecting his meals and everything!

And Kuzuryuu! Neglecting Kuzuryuu! It wasn’t that big of a deal, he was often happy to leave Souda to his hobbies since he liked seeing Souda happy—but he hadn’t looked _happy_ , he just seemed stressed and crabby.

From the lack of sleep. And socialising. And _food and things important to life_.

“How long’re you going to be mad at me?” Kuzuryuu grumbled as he watched Souda. Souda hunched up his shoulders a little more, curled up in bed _finally_ after several sleepless nights. Kuzuryuu scowled at his back and stood up from his chair, seriously considering just walking out on the deck and leaving him alone.

…But, he couldn’t do that.

So he walked over instead, over to a small bunk that wasn’t made for two people, and forced himself onto it with Souda.

“Oi!”

Ignoring him, Kuzuryuu aggressively hugged him around the waist from behind, burying his face against his back.

“I _miss you_ , damn it. Fuck. Don’t make me say it.”

Utter quiet. Then, light as anything, Souda’s fingers tentatively grazing his knuckles. He didn’t say anything but, slowly, he relaxed in Kuzuryuu’s arms.

It wasn’t long after that that Souda fell asleep, leaving Kuzuryuu sighing.

…Well, he’d make Souda pay attention to him properly tomorrow to make up for everything.

* * *

 

**permission**

“…You’re supposed to ask,” Kuzuryuu muttered, looking accusingly down at Souda’s hands.

Currently, they were positioned _under his shirt_ , his calloused fingers spread on Kuzuryuu’s chest. The mechanic paused, confused. “Huh?”

“You’re supposed to ask me if it’s okay to touch, idiot,” Kuzuryuu snapped, his cheeks flushing as his eye narrowed, practically to a slit. Oh, uh. Souda tried not to get distracted by the flexing muscle underneath his fingers, the fact that he could feel the bone underneath skin and he was just dying to pull all of Kuzuryuu’s clothes off and map the structure of his body with his fingers.

“S’it okay?” Souda ‘asked’.

Kuzuryuu didn’t look impressed.

“What! Is it that big of a deal?!”

“Yeah—I mean—maybe! Why the fuck shouldn’t it be?!”

This wasn’t going so well. At least, not like Souda had imagined for the first time he managed to get his hands underneath Kuzuryuu’s clothes.

“You like me, don’t you?!” Souda burst out, flushing.

“Wh—” Kuzuryuu did too, though he looked _pissed off_ about being flushed. “Of… of course I do! What does that have to do with it?! Maybe I don’t want you doin’ it until I say you can!”

“What the hell! You don’t want me touching you?!”

Really, not as imagined _at all_.

“I never said that, idiot! Maybe I just want you to pay attention,” Kuzuryuu hissed, giving Souda’s head a shove with his palm. Souda’s hands were doing a creeping motion to escape from his shirt, to ball in the front of his clothes instead.

“Damn it, fine! Then—then, can I put my hands in your shirt?!”

“Yeah!” Kuzuryuu snapped, angrier than… you know, approving.

Still, that was permission!

 

* * *

 Hinata/Komaeda

* * *

 

**mystery**

Hinata wasn’t that much for books—there were endless amounts of things to do at all times. But, occasionally, as they travelled on the ship he found himself with leisure time. Luckily they picked up things here and there to keep them busy, like books.

“Mystery, Hinata-kun?”

When he looked up, Komaeda stood before him with his hands in his pockets, a smile on his lips as usual. He was reading the title, lips shaping _Out_.

“Yeah. Well, it’s more of a crime novel, they didn’t exactly hide who did it.” Hinata idly put a bookmark in place, closing it and laying it on his stomach. He looked up at him. “You want to read it?”

Komaeda blinked, surprised. “…I suppose so, sure. You aren’t finished with it, though.”

“Pull up a chair. We can start together from the beginning.”

“…Hinata-kun.”

“What? It’s more fun that way.”

While it was a whim of his to ask Komaeda, he totally caught the small flash of interest in Komaeda’s eyes before he tried hiding it. Komaeda breathed a put-upon sigh, like Hinata was really strong-arming him into this, but he dragged a chair over to where Hinata’s was set up.

“You’ll have to read it to me,” he said archly. “It’s not that easy to read something someone else is holding.”

“We can take turns reading. How about that?”

“…Hmm. All right.”

 

* * *

 

**blow**

When the attack came, Hinata took it, weathering the blow with his head jerking to one side. At once, red suffused his cheek and Komaeda _knew_ that he’d have a nasty bruise the next day. He knew too why Hinata just took it, gazing with his mismatched eyes at the gathered people on the beach they’d landed at.

The people knew who they were. They wouldn’t forgive them.

Hinata knew that, too.

Despite admiring and respecting what Hinata did by taking the punches, the abuse, though he could be a killing machine when need be, Komaeda worried. He bit down on his knuckles, gazing with more anxiety than he liked toward Hinata, knowing that later he would be sitting with him and Tsumiki on the ship watching him get patched up.

 

* * *

 Gundam/Hinata

* * *

 

**cooperate**

As part of living in a small space with a limited number of people, they had to establish who was doing what. Hanamura wanted to cook every night, naturally, but it wasn’t fair for him to cook all of the time either, so they set up a calendar for chores. It worked remarkably well, but it was a spot of normalcy in their otherwise strange lives and they stuck to it gladly.

Just—some times, things went awry.

“I refuse,” Gundam said, glowering.

 _No-one ever wanted certain duties_. This particular one was a necessity but the least favourite. Everyone had to clean. Everyone cleaned different areas each week. While they were responsible for the cleaning of their individual toilets, there was still the communal one (often in case of emergencies). Thus, this situation…

“Tanaka, you can’t just refuse,” Hinata sighed. “I know, I don’t want to do it either when I get scheduled for it, but—”

Gundam glared stubbornly, setting his jaw. “You disgrace me, Hinata Hajime, asking me to do such a task. _Stoop_ to such a task,” he muttered, low and vicious.

_He really doesn’t want to clean them…_

“Okay… okay. How about this? I know you want to do it, but we have to keep it all fair. So, if you do it, I’ll do something for you. What do you think?”

Gundam’s jaw loosened some and he scrutinised Hinata’s face. “‘Something’,” he repeated. “Like what?”

“Huh? I don’t know, anything?” He was, as usual, too free with himself and his own time. But, Hinata neither wanted nor saw the need to hold himself back when it was with Tanaka or with any of his friends. They were all fine, he could trust them. Sometimes they wanted to do stupid things or outlandish things, but it was never anything too bad.

Watching Gundam, Hinata frowned in confusion. He’d gone all quiet when Hinata said _anything_ and, observing, Gundam was carefully inching his scarf up his face, his eyes averting and his fingers twitching restlessly. Was… was that a hint of a flush to his face?

Hinata started blushing too. _Shit, what are you thinking about!_ he shouted mentally, both at himself and Gundam.

“Very well,” Gundam said at last. “I accept your conditions and I will _debase_ myself cleaning, if I must. However, when the sun sets…” He trailed off. Someone might think he was trying to be ominous, but Hinata saw him fidgeting. He was being shy! What on earth had he come up with?! “W-when the sun sets, you will come to my cabin.”

_Ah._

“Oh.” Hinata wet his lips nervously with his tongue, looking away. Neither of them could look at each other. “Um. Yeah. No… no problem.”

“Then we have an agreement.”

 _An agreement_. No choice but to cooperate…

(But in truth, Hinata was excited.)


End file.
